Backseat Driving with Jesus: A Lesson in Letting Go

I did it. I handed Jesus the keys. I said, “Lord, I trust You. Take the wheel.”
And then—I slid into the passenger seat, buckled up, and immediately started giving directions.

“Are You sure this is the right way?”
“Shouldn’t we be going faster?”
“Wait, why are we stopping at Patience Parkway? That wasn’t on my itinerary.”

I even tried to adjust the mirrors. As if the Savior of the world needed help seeing the road ahead.

Detours, Delays, and Divine GPS

Let’s be honest: surrender sounds beautiful in theory. But in practice? It feels like giving up control of your life’s Google Maps and trusting a Driver who doesn’t always explain the route.

Sometimes He takes us through valleys we didn’t expect.
Sometimes He parks us in seasons of waiting.
And sometimes—He drives us straight into blessings we never saw coming.

But through it all, He never asks us to navigate. He asks us to trust.

My Inner Backseat Driver

I’ve realized my spiritual backseat driving shows up in subtle ways:

• Worrying about finances even after praying for provision.
• Micromanaging my schedule while asking God to “order my steps.”
• Trying to fix people instead of letting God work in their hearts.

It’s like I say, “Jesus, You’re in control,” but secretly I’m clutching the emergency brake.

That’s when Isaiah 55:8–9 gently reminds me:

“‘For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways,’ declares the Lord.
‘As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.’”

God doesn’t need my shortcuts. His route is wiser, deeper, and far more scenic than anything I could plan.

The Freedom of Letting Go

Here’s the truth: Jesus doesn’t need my help steering.
He’s not looking for a co-pilot. He’s looking for a passenger who trusts Him enough to enjoy the ride—even when the scenery doesn’t make sense.

So today, I’m choosing to sit back, sip my spiritual coffee (extra grace, no judgment), and let Him drive.
No more rerouting. No more panicking at detours. Just faith, seatbelt fastened.

Because when Jesus takes the wheel, He doesn’t just get us there—He transforms us along the way.

 Closing Prayer

Lord, thank You for being the perfect Driver of my life.
Forgive me for the times I’ve tried to take control, reroute Your plans, or question Your timing.
Help me to trust Your ways—even when they don’t match mine.
Give me peace in the passenger seat, joy in the journey, and faith that You know exactly where we’re going.
I surrender the wheel again today. Drive me wherever You want to go.